


Through The Valley Of Shadows

by Archer973



Series: Build The Castle On Our Passions [9]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 19:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21124280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: Bass and Charlie hunt for Miles when he goes missing, and Charlie tells Bass what happened when Neville caught up with her





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I am so, so, so very sorry about how long this update took. Since the last time I posted, I moved halfway across the country, and it has been a struggle getting back into writing after that upheaval. However, I was finally able to finish this piece, and I believe my muses have finally forgiven me for the turbulence of the couple of months.
> 
> Now, this is another installment where I have altered canon. Basically, Bass instead of Connor talks with Charlie, and they look for Miles together (like they should have). I hope you guys enjoy, and thank you for being patient with me during this crazy time!

**Chapter One**

Two days.

Bass had spent most of his life in war, either hunting or being hunted, but these last two days... they were the longest ones of his life. Every second ticked by with excruciating agony, the knowledge that Miles was out there somewhere – alone, hurt, possibly dead – cutting at his heart like razor blades.

First he had been annoyed, annoyed that Miles had left them, annoyed that he was taking so long to get back when Bass knew that Charlie needed him, even if she would never say it. Then the annoyance had turned into concern. Dead Rangers. A broken wagon. No sign of Miles but the blood and corpses he left behind. Now... now the terror sat in his chest and suffocated his every breath.

He knew the clansmen thought he was crazy, spending so much time looking for a single man. He knew what they whispered, knew the snide remarks they made to each other, though only Connor had the guts to say it to his face. He didn't care. He and Miles had spend eight years living in those whispers. He did not expect any of these simple-minded, bloodlust-driven sheep to understand why he searched.

There was only one person who did.

Even with only a few hours left until nightfall, Bass was not surprised to see Charlie repacking her bag, preparing to head out again. He took a moment to look at her, just _look_, not pretending for anyone, not hiding what he was feeling. Long nights of no sleep were etched into the dark shadows under her eyes, and her hands shook from lack of food. Her golden hair was lank and dull, falling heedlessly forward over bruised skin...

Bass was across the tent in an instant, taking Charlie's face in his hands and turning it ever so slightly, laying the dark, angry bruise bare to the light. Charlie hadn't flinched as he came at her, for for all the violence that his hands had perpetrated, they were gentle as he held her, turning her temple towards the light of the fading sun and letting it illuminate an injury he knew all too well.

“What happened?” His voice was quiet, even almost, but Charlie could see in his eyes a soldier's knowledge, something that made his question rhetorical.

“Bass...” Charlie trailed off, to tired to try and think of a lie to placate him, not that he would have accepted one anyways.

“I know what the bruise is, Charlie, _what the hell happened_?”

Charlie sighed, closing her eyes. Bass still hadn't let go of his gentle grip on her face and she felt in that moment the weight of all the misery of the past few days press heavy against her chest. She did not have the energy to fight him, to hide from him. Jason was dead, Miles was missing... At this moment Bass was the closest thing she had to a friend.

“Neville caught up with me yesterday.”

Bass' breath caught sharp and harsh in his chest. His hands tightened imperceptibly on Charlie's jaw and it took everything in him not to pull her to him. Neville. Rabid bastard with a broken mind, broken even more so by Jason's desertion. And he had found Charlie.

Charlie's eyes were open now and meeting his, steady and calm as she continued her story, the exact opposite of Bass' churning gut. “He was looking for Jason. I lead him to the old safehouse, tried to go for one of the knives I had left there, but he caught me before I could. He... he must have been able to see it on my face, when he asked if Jason was – if he was dead.” Charlie's jaw twitched, the faintest flinch of sorrow, unnoticeable if Bass hadn't been holding her the way that he was. “He lost it. He... he said he was going to torture his way through everyone until he found out who killed him, starting with Miles. So I told him the truth.”

Bass flinched and Charlie gave him a weak, trembling smile. “He didn't believe me. So I told him exactly what had happened. And then... then I told him to shoot me.”

The knot in Bass' chest that had formed when they found the broken wagon seized, twisting so tightly that for a moment he couldn't breathe. Of course she had. Of course she had told him to shoot her. This girl played so fast and loose with her own life, and now with the pain of what she had had to do to someone she had cared about... Bass silently cursed himself. While he was having his little _bitch fight_ with Rachel, Charlie had been staring down the barrel of a gun at the murdering psychopath on the other end.

“Did he?” The question was foolish, he knew, but he had to know. Charlie nodded ever so slightly and Bass felt like he was going to puke, his stomach dropped so fast.

“His gun was empty.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlie...” Unable to hold back any longer, Bass pulled Charlie to him, crushing her to his chest. Charlie went willingly, burying her face in the side of his neck as Bass pressed his cheek to her hair, trying desperately to calm his racing heart. Neville had had a gun pressed to her head, pressed so hard that it left a perfect bruise of the barrel. Neville knew that Charlie had killed his son. Neville had pulled the trigger.

Neville had pulled the trigger.

“You're not going back out there.” The words were out before he could stop them, and what he had meant as an order came out desperate and pleading. He felt Charlie's lips curl against the soft skin of his neck, a tired smile he knew all too well. She pulled back, though he was loathe to let her go, his chest still screaming and twisting with the fact that he had almost lost her.

“I have to, Bass.” There was no anger in her voice that he dare give her orders, only a quiet determination. They both knew that she did, that she had to keep looking for Miles, no matter what other threats were looming, and they both knew that Bass knew that as well.

“You're not going alone.” This time Bass' voice was stronger. There was no way in hell that he was going to let her set one foot outside of camp along, not until Tom Neville's head was safely on a spike. “I'm coming with you, and that's not up for debate.”

Charlie smiled slightly, comforted in a strange way by the sharp edge of Bass' anger. This was the man she had seen in Pottsboro, slaughtering the men who had tried to hurt her. There was no cool facade of General here, no arrogant leader whipping men into a frenzy to kill for his glory. This was the man who had fought by her uncle's side in the train yard. This was the man she had gone back for in New Vegas. This was _Bass_, the poison of him ambition stripped away, leaving the heart of him bare for Charlie to see, rough and scarred and stained by blood, but still burning.

Burning with hers.

“C'mon. Let's go bring Miles home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The sun was falling quickly, but neither Charlie nor Bass were willing to suggest that they turn back. They had started from the wagon wreck once more, following the same path that Bass had searched with Rachel the other day. Bass knew that is was foolish, rehashing the same ground again and again, but he _knew_ Miles, knew him in a way he didn't even know himself. _This_ was the route he would have taken, Bass was _sure_ of it. And now that he didn't have Rachel trying to start a cat fight over teenage bullshit, maybe he'd actually be able to make some real fucking progress.

Plus, he had the best tracker around leading the way.

Going down a scrubby hill, Charlie stopped so quickly Bass almost ran right into her. He opened his mouth, about to ask was she had seen, but the words died in his throat as Charlie knelt shakily to the ground and picked up a battered black jacket.

Miles' jacket.

Miles' jacket _which was soaked with blood_.

“It's not his blood.” The words were instantaneous. People tended to bleed around Miles all the time, no matter how much he tried to wring his hands about it. Plus, he had killed seven damn Rangers. Not exactly like he was hurting for corpses.

All of this was running through Bass' mind, but his heart was sinking and Charlie was shaking her head, spreading the jacket so that he could see.

“It's on the inside. Bass... this is too much blood.” Charlie's voice trembled as she said it and Bass instantly knelt so that he crouched in front of her, hand reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“Charlie, look at me.” Charlie did, her brilliant blue eyes wide and touched with just the edge of panic, an trembling that was answered in Bass' own racing heart. But he forced his fear down, forced himself to be calm as he looked at her, something steady for her to focus on. “You know Miles. You kick him in the teeth, he gets right back up and kicks back twice as hard. That son of a bitch is too stubborn to die.” Charlie nods, but the hands holding Miles' blood-soaked jacket are trembling.

“Bass... I can't _lose_ him. Not now. Wh – when Neville pulled that trigger... every part of me screamed that I did not want to die. When it was too late, I realized that I wanted to _live_.”

The incredulity in her voice slices Bass' heart like a razor. Of course. She had never cared about her own life, he had seen that the first time they met. First she lived for her brother, then for revenge, but never for herself. Until now.

“I don't think I deserve the second chance I've been given, but I know that whatever future I'm going to have, I want Miles there. I _need_ him there.” Charlie's fists clench in the material of Miles' jacket and Bass feels the pressure in his own chest.

“Charlie...” Her name is soft coming out of his mouth, but the fire in his chest is anything but. “I swear to you, he'll be there. Even if we have to scour this whole godforsaken country, _we will find him_. Okay?”

Charlie looks at him for a moment, her gaze no less intense even with the tears threatening to break free. Bass looked back, letting her see his certainty. Because he was certain. Miles wouldn't abandon Charlie. Him, Rachel, Willoughby, the whole fucking world, yes... but never Charlie. And Bass would give every drop of blood in his body to make sure that fact remained true.

Charlie must have seen it in his eyes, for she smiled, a small, quavering lifting of lips, then stood and reached down to him. Bass took her hand, and when she pulled him to her, he went easily, almost gratefully. Charlie pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder and Bass couldn't stop some of the tension from running out of his spine. He dropped his head, letting it rest against hers for a moment, breathing her in. She smelled of dirt and sweat and old blood and in that moment it was the most wonderful thing Bass had ever smelled.

The crack of a branch underfoot pulled them quickly apart, instincts honed by war snapping them to alertness and their hands to weapons.

Just in time to see Miles collapse in the field before them.

Bass and Charlie stood frozen for a moment, then both of them were running, sprinting to Miles' side in desperate haste. Bass practically fell to his knees when they reach him, and Charlie did the same, both reaching desperately for the man they had spent so long searching for.

“Bass?” Miles blinked up at the other man, and Bass practically sobbed, cradling Miles' head in his lap

“Yeah, buddy, it's me.”

“Why were you hugging my niece?” Miles' words are thick and clumsy, but his dark eyes are still sharp through the haze of dehydration and blood loss. Bass glanced up at Charlie, who was beaming even as tears streamed down her face, one hand wrapped in Miles' while the other checked the thick, red wound that seemed to take up the entirety of his lower torso.

“Because she's prettier than you are, Miles. Now shut up and let us get you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So someone other than Connor has finally seen our duo together, though Miles is pretty out of it at this point due to the whole, you know, mostly dying thing. I would love to hear what y'all though, and thank you all for sticking with me!


End file.
